


Dark Corner Of The Past

by AllTheLokisWelcome7



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: AU, Cruelty, Dark fic, Dark!Zexion, Depression abounds, Emotional Abuse, Everyone's here for better or for worse, Lust for Power, M for manipulative behaviour, M/M, Not canon-compliant, Verbal Abuse, during KH2 but CoM never happened, entitlement, psychological torment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 09:55:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18519055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheLokisWelcome7/pseuds/AllTheLokisWelcome7
Summary: When hiding from the weight of his failure and the cruelty of his colleagues, Demyx catches a conversation not meant for his ears. After revealing his presence, his dreams manifest into reality, but it's nothing like what he had yearned for.





	Dark Corner Of The Past

**Author's Note:**

> Please bear in mind that I wrote this to relieve some of the stress that my depression was giving me at the time. I do not condone anyone's actions in this fic, nor do I think that this is right. If you're reading this, that means that you've acknowledged that you've read the tags and accept their weight. This is not a happy fic.

Demyx wandered through the Dark Corridor, without a definitive purpose. He passed many exits, but took none. Mostly, he just wanted to be alone, to be made blissfully unaware of the cruel comments that would doubtlessly be made over his newest blunder, but he knew that wouldn't happen. With nowhere to go, he was stuck with the faint echoes of the outside world reaching his ears for all that he willed them away. He didn't feel like listening – didn't feel much of anything, really – but they hounded him endlessly, demanding his attention.

“Anyone from the Organization want to be next?” Sora's voice drifted to him. _Definitely not._

“You won't forget this.” _I'm not dealing with Axel today._

“Gee, I just don't know.” _Or Xigbar._

“He's just so _useless.”_ Demyx clenched his fists, resisting the urge to dump water through the portal. _I'd rather fight_ Sora _than her._

“I wonder if Demyx knows..."

 _That_ caught his attention, the first thing to not make him feel awful in this horrid place. He stopped in front of the patch of light, listening, but careful not to press against it; he didn't want to deal with the consequences of suddenly appearing uninvited. Especially not in front of the object of his affections.

“Please,” Vexen scoffed, sniffing derisively. “The only thing that boy knows is how to pretend.”

“And recon,” the other argued. “And follow written directions precisely, as well as a range of other skills that you won't take the time to acknowledge.”

Demyx blinked in surprise. _Zexion is on my side?_

“Furthermore, he is in touch with who he ought to be. That is more than can be said for the rest of us.”

“How dare you?”

“I _dare,_ ” Zexion emphasised, voice laced with a cold annoyance. “Because it is the truth. You may deflect reason as often as you'd like to fuel your biases, but you cannot bury the facts forever.”

Demyx wondered what had started the argument, and what caused Zexion to take his side.

“I can do as I wish, child!”

“If you continue to refer to me as a child, I refuse to be held responsible for my actions.”

“Spare me your bluffs, boy. We both know that you don't fight.”

Even through the barrier, the room seemed to buzz with tension until something gave. When Zexion spoke again, his voice was completely emotionless, words chosen with a cutting precision.

“You only say such things because you never had a heart to your name, even as a supposed human. You never cared about me in the first place. I think it's time to drop the act.”

Demyx shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself. Even without being able to see them, he could imagine the look on Vexen's face, the air chilling around him as he was temporarily shocked out of one of his raves. Briefly, he felt concerned for Zexion's safety, Vexen's shaky voice a harsh whisper.

“You take that back.”

“I will do no such thing unless you can offer me proof that I am incorrect.”

He felt more than heard a weapon being summoned, and without thinking, he leapt through the exit. Fighting was one of his many weaknesses, and he didn't cope well against ice, but he couldn't let Zexion suffer for standing up for him. Both members took a step back from the portal, faces portraying varying levels of surprise. Demyx emerged, sitar at the ready, his body trembling as he stared Vexen down.

The man huffed what could have been a laugh, shaking his head slowly. “Demyx, stand aside.”

“I won't!” _Zexion is unarmed!_

“Demyx.” The blond jumped at the hand on his shoulder, the word just as gentle. “He's not going to hurt me.”

“You don't _know_ that!”

“Demyx, which of us has lived with him for our whole lives?”

Demyx hesitated, reluctant to stand down, but visibly amenable to reason.

“That's right, it's me. It's alright to let go. Drop your weapon, stand aside.”

Compelled by an unseen force, he did just that. Truthfully, he was scared of what might happen, but Zexion didn't do anything without reason. So, Demyx would trust him.

Vexen sighed heavily, as though defeated. The tip of his shield rested heavily on the ground, and he absently trailed his fingers over one of its smooth faces, the gesture one of forlorn sentiment. It seemed as though he had forgotten Demyx was still there, mind as distant as his gaze.

“True, I was not the fairest parental figure. I was distant and stern, too much of everything that a child only needs in small measure. But, Zexion...” Vexen turned to his adoptive son, gaunt face sallow with despair, eyes filled with regret. “This cursed thing, every time I see it, is a reminder of how I failed you. I was never the parent you needed, and I couldn't even do my sworn duty to protect you. Even lacking a heart cannot erase the horror of what I've done.”

Demyx stifled a gasp, fearing what would happen if Vexen remembered him. Zexion acted accordingly, taking slow steps past Demyx and standing in front of Vexen. Demyx could tell that it was more a courtesy than a true act of emotion, but Zexion's face was carefully open as he stared up at Vexen. Something that needed to be done, as opposed to something he wanted to do.

“Look at me, Vexen. I am well. Perhaps you could not protect Ienzo, but is this not better? Aren't you grateful for the chance to watch him grow up?” The smile he offered was nauseating, twisted and fake, but Vexen fell for it. Perhaps in his mind, he needed to. “He would not have lived long on his own, with you and Aeleus dead at his feet. This was for the best.”

Vexen deflated further, leaning against his shield for support as he let the words wash away some of the dread. “Yes, you are correct...”

“Why don't you take the day off? Get some rest. _I_ will handle the experiments.”

“Very well...” With that, Vexen trudged away, braced against his shield.

Zexion turned to the room's other occupant with a smirk, and Demyx recoiled.

_The way he uses his words is horrifying._

“Demyx,” Zexion repeated, soft and with a hint of laughter. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

“Why did you stand up for me?” Demyx asked wisely, instead of _How can I trust that after what I saw?_

“Because I don't see what happened as your fault.”

“You can't know that.”

“Can't I?”

Demyx paused, uncertain. After that display, he couldn't fathom what Zexion really did and didn't know.

“What do you get out of it?”

Zexion chuckled, low and dark, and fixed him with an unblinking stare, unnerving and analytical.

“Now why would you think that?”

“Because everything you do is calculated. I know, I can see it. Everything you contribute goes towards shifting things into your favour. So I ask again, Zexion: What do you get out of it?”

Zexion tapped his lips with a fingertip, considering his words with a casual apathy, then smiled.

“I rather like your displays of emotion. It's refreshing, in this stagnant wasteland.”

“Vexen seemed pretty emotional...”

“The last thing he experienced before his transition into Nobody form. It's only natural that it's the memory he's most familiar with. Besides, if he suffers through a story he's made for himself regarding his powers, then that is his own fault.”

Demyx scowled, crossing his arms. “That's not true! This is too cruel!”

Zexion laughed. Not his deranged laughter, but a softer kind, though equally cruel. He pressed up against Demyx, pinning his arms to his chest with his body. His hand reached up, cupping his cheek with a mock fondness.

“I've never seen a scowl look so ugly as on you.”

Demyx gawked, a mixture of disgust and rage. “How can you-”

He was cut off with a kiss, slow and hungry. Zexion smirked up at him afterwards, eyes glinting dangerously. “I would rather you be without it.”

Demyx stood frozen, trying to process what was happening. All of this was a lot to take in.

“You look so much better when you smile.”

Zexion stroked his cheek again, and Demyx squeezed his eyes closed, turning away.

“Don't you want me?”

“I do, Zexion. Really, I do. But not like this.”

Zexion tutted, withdrawing slowly. He would be patient, now that his intentions were made clear. Now that Demyx knew he reciprocated, if in a hollow, twisted form. It would be simple: a suggestion here, a nudge there, kind words and subtle affection. He would make Demyx feel needed.

Demyx covered his face with a hand, the other still wrapped tightly around himself. He felt sick, fear and disgust wrenching his gut. When they had first met, he thought the man beautiful. Everyone warned him about his cruel and manipulative behaviour, about his desire to cause discord, but Demyx had ignored them all, focusing on his desires. The more he saw of Zexion, for all that they rarely spoke, the more he wanted him. But this was so far beyond what he wanted that in all of his daydreams, Demyx had never considered this.

_It's not supposed to be like this._

“Then, what _would_ you like?” Zexion purred, breaking through his thoughts.

“For you to stop being a psychopath! Stop toying with me, and just tell me what you want with me!” Demyx shook with the force of his words, grief and anger replacing fear.

“I want what you want, Dem,” Zexion's lips curled into a sneer, as close to a smile as he could manage. “I want a relationship with you.”

Demyx bit his lip, unable to think of a response, so Zexion continued in a whisper.

“Your strengths cover my weaknesses. Your abilities complement my own. Our partnership would be the most powerful force in the Organization. We could do anything together, _be_ anything we desire. Doesn't that sound perfect?”

It seemed as though his speech settled Demyx, as the other was quiet and still, not nearly as tense as he had been. When he finally met the unblinking gaze, his words were devoid of emotion. Stripped of it, as though he had nothing left to give to his voice.

“I don't want anything to do with you unless you stop being so horrible.”

Zexion almost gaped, surprised that Demyx was fighting his suggestion. From where he stood, his offer was reasonable. Was it possible that Demyx _didn't_ want power?

“Would you truly be with me if I were more like how you dreamed?”

“Yes...” Demyx whispered, the last of his emotional strength washed into this longing. His eyes slid shut, shielding him from the cruelty he expected to receive for the admission.

Zexion slowly wrapped his arms around him, pulling an illusion around his face to convey an emotion he didn't know how to express naturally. He allowed himself to look vulnerable, and sweet.

Cautiously, Demyx opened one eye slightly, gasping and opening the other at the display. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around him, too surprised by the display and exhausted from his struggles to question it. Zexion _never_ looked vulnerable, and the tug at his heart told him that he didn't want to see it again. True to the expression, Zexion buried his face against Demyx's neck, breaths soft and damp. Demyx brought one hand up to cup the back of his head reassuringly, the other rubbing soothing circles into his back.

“Then, I will...” Zexion murmured, nuzzling lightly. His tone was convincing enough to trick the senses, endearing Demyx to his plight. “I will be anything you want me to be. Just so long as I have you.”

Demyx thanked him quietly, oblivious to the smirk pressed into his hood.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I hope that was suitably chilling. It was fun to work with a darker aspect of Zexion's mind. Sometimes, we see his politeness and generally helpful demeanour, and forget that he demonstrates some incredible feats of manipulation at times, too. 
> 
> His “deranged laughter” is in reference to the opening of the Absent Silhouette/Data battles against him. I like to think that it's something that he picked up from having Vexen as one of his closer parents. 
> 
> To listen to it and a lot of other funny noises for Organization XIII, check out this channel and [vid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wNFwsLOh-y0)!


End file.
